


Revenge

by captainamergirl



Category: The Bold and the Beautiful
Genre: Affairs, Character Bashing, Character Death, F/M, Halloween, Investigations, Major Character(s), Original Character(s), Serial Killers, Spoof
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27022738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainamergirl/pseuds/captainamergirl
Summary: People will die. Or, in which a serial killer stalks the residents of Los Angeles.A fanfiction right in time for Halloween!
Relationships: Katie Logan/Original Character(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Ridge Forrester/Shauna Fulton, Steffy Forrester/John "Finn" Finnegan, Thomas Forrester/Sally Spectra II, Wyatt Fuller/Hope Logan, Zoe Buckingham/Carter Walton
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue

**Prologue**  
  
Heavy panting and grunting, the metallic sound of bedsprings creaking in protest, and the occasional shrill shrieks of _“yes, oh hell yes!”_ could be heard from down the street but were particularly assaulting to the ears this up-close and personal.  
  
The figure edged into the room. They could not be more conspicuous standing there in a long black robe wearing an off-kilter gray werewolf mask, and yet they remained unnoticed. Story of their fucking life!  
  
The couple in bed continued going at it like rutting pigs, sweat rolling down their faces as he pounded into her, and she bobbed atop him, screaming herself hoarse as they reached their final orgasmic heights of pleasure. Only when they fell back onto their rumpled, damp pillows did they finally sense anything amiss.  
  
Brooke Logan saw the masked figure first. She immediately tensed up and went to cover her craggy, voluminous breasts. Her mouth formed an “O” shape, and her eyes widened in fear. She said nothing as she nudged her companion Bill Spencer. His eyes too went wide. But they were decidedly less full of fright and more of cockiness as if he were asking, _“Who dares to come into my home and spy on me?”_  
  
The masked figure moved forward, edging towards the bed. “Who are you?” Bill demanded. “How the hell did you get in here?”  
  
The masked person made no reply, but Brooke whimpered and clutched Bill’s bicep. “Bill… I’m scared.”  
  
Bill shook her free. “Don’t be. Obviously, this loser doesn’t realize Halloween is still three weeks away… Hey, do you get your jollies off on watching people going at it?” He was challenging them; he was actually trying to intimidate them! Their lips curled into a nasty smirk beneath the mask. The world was going to be a much better place without Bill Spencer in it.  
  
“Take the mask off and show yourself, asshole. Your little prank is not funny!” Bill went on. They didn’t move to do as he had commanded. No longer would anyone try to control them, let alone this man. This man who bragged that he was a stallion, but close up, was hung more like a newborn foal…  
  
“Bill, call the police!” Brooke pleaded as her signature one-eyed weeping began in earnest. She was a bimbo, but at least she knew enough to know that she was in real danger.  
  
“We don’t need the police. I will take care of this motherfucker myself!” Bill said and started to climb out of bed. He began to charge forward towards the masked figure, and the masked figure feigned retreating backward as Bill reached for them. Bill shot his hand out as the masked person reached beneath their robe and produced their butcher knife. They jabbed it forward, and Bill only spotted it when it was being driven into his abdomen. He screamed once as the blade was twisted violently in his gut, and then he fell back on the floor, his eyes rolling up in his head. His expression was forever frozen in a look of abject disgust.  
  
Brooke had seen the whole exchange and began to scream. The killer turned to face them. They took their gloved hand, wiped away the blood on the knife blade, and moved towards Brooke. Brooke jumped to her feet, lined breasts jiggling as she tried to scurry free. The killer reached her before she could charge out of the room. They grabbed Brooke’s blonde hair in their fist and yanked her backward. Brooke tumbled to the floor on her ass. She held up her hands, screaming, “Stop, please don’t!”  
  
The killer closed the distance then and kicked Brooke as hard as they could in the face. The blonde screamed, and several veneered teeth flew across the room. Brooke’s mouth instantly filled with blood, and she was gagging and sobbing in terror as the killer finally took their knife and rammed it between Brooke’s eyes. Brooke was dead instantly. The killer smirked and laughed maniacally as they withdrew their knife. It was covered in pulpy, red, and gray matter, and while in the past that might have sickened them, now they took perverse pleasure in seeing it.  
  
“So the whore Brooke Logan has brains after all,” they said with a mirthful giggle. “Who would have believed?” They then wiped the knife on the bedsheet and pocketed it.  
  
They left the house in the wee hours, knowing with certainty that they had not been seen.


	2. The Smell of Death

**Chapter 1: The Smell of Death**  
  
“God, what is that _awful_ smell?” Katie Logan asked herself as she pushed open the door to the Spencer estate and set her purse down in the entryway. She was surprised that her key still worked and that Bill hadn’t changed the locks yet to keep her out. He was so good at pushing her away that it made her sick.  
  
The smell was terrible and just made her feel all the worse. It was like nothing she had ever smelled before, and it made her stomach churn. In the back of her mind, she was scared. She didn’t know why she was scared, but she was. It was irrational, but something told her to turn around, run out, right now, and never look back. However, she was a Logan, which meant that she was stubborn, so she kept pressing on, calling out Bill’s name.  
  
“Bill, come on, Bill! It’s Katie. We need to talk. Are you home? Don’t try to hide, okay, because I saw your Lamborghini in the driveway. Brooke’s Coupe was parked right next to it, so it’s safe to assume she’s here too. Is she hiding in your pajama bottoms?”  
  
Katie shook her head. Brooke was the worst sister she could have asked for, and Bill the worst husband she could think of. Brooke picking a man over their sisterly bond hurt her deeply, and Bill picking her sister over their son was just as upsetting.  
  
“Dammit, answer me! _Someone!”_ Katie cried out, that sick feeling continuing to stir her gut. She found herself heading towards the staircase, scared of what she would see. The odor – the odor that was a mixture of rotten meat, feces, and something else that she couldn’t identify - intensified with every step she took. She weaved on the steps halfway up and had to grip the banister tightly to keep from plummeting to the ground.  
  
She forced herself to swallow down the bile in her throat. She knew something was wrong as she stepped onto the landing. The door at the end of the hallway, the one that opened to the master bedroom that she and Bill used to share, was wide open, and something was streaked on the door. She wanted to believe it was just ketchup or some sauce Bill and Brooke had brought up to the room to make their already nasty sexcapades still kinkier, but Katie didn’t believe it. Deep down, she knew that she was about to see something worse than her sister and her former husband _enflagrante delecto._  
  
An eerie feeling settled over her, and she wished to hell that she had come upstairs with her cell phone in hand. She paused at the end of the hallway, leaning heavily against one of the walls. Then she coaxed herself to move forward.  
  
The smell kept assaulting her nostrils as she came closer to the door. Finally, she forced herself to take two more steps – the hardest two steps of her life – and walk inside the room. She felt some squishy under her feet and quickly looked down. Pulpy red and gray ground meat clung to her high heels. She quivered on her legs and then looked around the room. She screamed as she saw Brooke and Bill lying there - bloodied, broken, and, most of all, dead. She screamed and screamed as she scrambled for the door. She stumbled and landed on her knees in the gray matter. She screamed louder as it covered her knees and soaked into her blue skirt. She crawled as fast as she could out of the room, unable to stand at the moment.  
  
She kept screaming and screaming as she scooted down the hall as quickly as she could. The frozen look of indignance in Bill’s eyes would haunt her forever.  
  
Tears were streaming down her face as she kept crawling. Eventually, she was able to get to her feet by leaning against a table in the hallway. She yanked herself to her feet and then quickly vomited when she saw what was coating her shoes, clothes, and skin.  
  
She was in a frenzy to get away and get to the phone. Just then, she heard a door slam somewhere downstairs. Whoever was there didn’t announce themselves. She figured that the killer – whoever they were - had returned to finish her off so she couldn’t be a witness to this massacre.  
  
She shook her head and covered her mouth to try to muffle her sobs. She soon heard footsteps on the staircase, coming quickly towards her. She looked around for a quick escape and started running for the door of Will’s old nursery. She thanked God for the fact that she had chosen not to bring him with her today or let him sleep over here the night before. He was alive; he was safe with his aunt Donna, who was more or less his part-time nanny now.  
  
Katie stumbled towards the nursery and was halfway there. She looked back once to see a dark shadow on the staircase. She managed to make it to the room and slammed the door shut, reaching for the lock. Someone was soon leaning on the other side of the door and pushing it against her, trying to force their way inside. “Oh god, oh, god!” Katie cried. She didn’t want to leave her son an orphan. The thought of Will growing up without either of his parents spurred her on, and she forced all her weight onto the door, managing to slam the lock into place. She quickly grabbed the end of the changing table and dragged it in front of the door. The pounding on the door picked up in earnest. Katie looked around for something to defend herself with, but there was nothing. What would she do – smother her would-be killer with a baby diaper?  
  
No, she had to get out of here. And now! The murderer was slamming their body against the door now, and she knew it was only a matter of time before they got inside. She looked around for something she could use to lower herself from the window. It was her only option to escape. She was high up on the second floor, and it would be tricky, but she would rather chance a fall than get a knife blade shoved in her throat. At least she assumed that’s what they had used on Bill and Brooke. What else would make such an extreme mess?  
  
She shook her head and immediately grabbed for the bedsheets in the crib. The banging on the door continued, and the person would be in momentarily, Katie was sure of that. She quickly tied two-bed sheets together, hoping they were long enough to lower her safely to the ground so she could get the hell out of there. Katie tied the first sheet as snugly as she could to the crib's leg and ran to the window. She threw it open and hot air immediately smacked her in the face. She quickly grabbed onto the length of the bedsheets.  
  
“Now or never, Katie, now or never,” she whispered to herself as she climbed onto the windowsill and lowered herself down. She smacked violently against the side of the house, causing plaster to loosen, and she was twisted there for a moment, trying to catch her bearings. She was dangling high above the ground and started to work her way down when she heard the door inside the room burst open, violently slamming back on its hinges and shattering the baby’s changing table. Katie screeched in fear and started hauling ass down the rope. She was terrified but not going to stop.  
  
She was halfway to the ground when she paused to look up. Why she didn’t know, in horror movies, you never were supposed to take the time to look back, but she couldn’t help herself. Two gloved hands shot out of the window, and she screamed as she tried to hustle down. She made it near the ground when she felt the sheets slacken. The damn killer had untied them! Katie went sailing to the ground. She heard a sickening crack as she landed on her left leg. She screamed in pain. The break – she assumed it was a break – hurt like hell!  
  
She watched the hands disappear, and the window slammed shut. She knew the killer would be coming after her momentarily. She was far away from the next house. The next place was halfway down the cliff. She’d never get away in time, certainly not with a fractured leg. Still, she dragged herself across the patio and felt her legs scrape against the pavement. She was bleeding instantly.  
  
She heard footsteps close by and then the slamming of the rear patio door. The killer was so close. Tears ran down her face as she prepared to say “goodbye” to her life. She said a prayer that Will would be okay without her.  
  
She knew that her time was up. She kept scooting, though, as best as she could. She heard footsteps running towards her, and she screamed and screamed. Up ahead, she saw a car rumbling up the road. She waved her arms wildly, screaming for whoever it was to stop, and please save her.  
  
The driver braked the car, and Katie looked backward again. She was no more than ten feet from the killer. They wore a werewolf mask and were dressed all in black. She held up her hand to stop them. Just then, they turned and ran in the opposite direction.  
  
Katie didn’t realize what was happening until she saw them turn the corner and disappear out of sight. Bill’s maid Carlotta came running to her aid. Katie sobbed with relief as Carlotta reached her side. “What happened, Senora Logan?” Carlotta asked.  
  
Katie was crying as she answered, “Bill. Brooke. They’re dead. Murdered!" She then passed out on the pavement.


	3. Devil's Advocate

**Chapter 2: Devil's Advocate**  
  
When Katie finally came around to consciousness, she found herself laying on a stretcher, propped up slightly, her leg wrapped. Two men stood over her, watching her expectantly. She felt anxious until she recognized the Hispanic man as none other than Detective Alex Sanchez. He always seemed to come around when things were really bad. And Jesus, they were truly horribly bad right now. Her sister and her ex-husband were actually dead!  
  
All of the fear and the pain she had experienced today came racing back to the forefront of her mind, and she began to sob uncontrollably. Alex reached out and squeezed her shoulder while the other man - a man with thick sandy-brown hair - watched her with narrowed, blue eyes. “My god,” Katie sobbed. “How could this happen? How could they have been killed so gruesomely? Who would do this?”  
  
“You tell us, Ms. Logan,” the other man said. He flashed his detective’s badge at her. She couldn’t read the name on it through her tears. He took out a small steno pad and watched her closely. She felt scrutiny in his gaze. “Who might have had a grudge against your sister and your ex-husband? You two were divorced, right?”  
  
Katie nodded. “Yes. We were – we are divorced. He cheated on me again with Brooke. I really, really hate that everyone knows about that, thanks to the tabloids.”  
  
“You hate being humiliated, sure, who doesn’t, but do you really hate the fact that the people who wronged are dead - killed in a horribly painful way?” The detective asked, scribbling something in his notepad.  
  
“Yes, of course, I am upset about this! I may have been angry at them, very angry, but them being dead – I never wanted that. I was hoping to mend fences somehow, maybe one day…” Fat teardrops kept rolling down her face. “Now we never will, and my son has no father. He’ll never really know his aunt either. For all Brooke’s fault, she loves kids.”  
  
Alex looked at Katie sympathetically. “This is a true tragedy. I’m so sorry for your loss.”  
  
Katie nodded, and she wiped her face. “This is horrible, but I have so many people I need to tell. I need to call Donna, and my father, and Liam, and Wyatt… Ohmigod, so many people have to know! So many people loved them.”  
  
“Did you love them too?” The other cop asked. His voice sounded tinged with suspicion. Katie didn’t understand it but hoped she imagined it in her frazzled state.  
  
“Yes. I mean, we had our issues –“  
  
“Big ones,” the cop put in. “Big issues. He cheated on you and humiliated you. I think it would be reasonable in some ways to wish bad things to happen to them – or maybe even try to make them happen yourself.”  
  
Katie stared at the detective disbelievingly. Even Alex looked dismayed by his partner’s words. “Jonas,” he said in a low, warning voice.  
  
“What?” Jonas asked. “I am just trying to get to the truth of what happened here.”  
  
“Not by going after me!” Katie hissed. “I lost so much in that house today.” She shivered as she looked toward the estate where men in blue jackets were wheeling in two gurneys. It occurred to her that she had been spared somehow while Brooke and Bill had not. Whoever had come after them had made sure that they couldn’t crawl away from the madness the way Katie had. She kept crying as she realized when they were finally wheeled out of there, it would be in chunks with white sheets strategically placed over their naked, mutilated bodies.  
  
“Why would you think I’m going after you?” Jonas asked, interrupting her wild, panicky thoughts. Her heart hurt, and she clutched her chest a bit, almost instinctively. She knew she had to calm down or risk having another heart attack. If she died too, Will, her precious boy, would be an orphan.  
  
Katie didn’t want to look at Jonas. She was extremely grateful when the EMTs finally moved to her and said they were taking her to the hospital for a thorough examination. Katie’s leg still throbbed like hell, but it was the least of her worries. What if the killer came after her again and this time Will was with her, and she couldn’t protect him?  
  
“Just one more question, Ms. Logan,” Jonas said.  
  
Katie sighed. “What is it?”  
  
“Why were you here this morning? Why did you come over here? Did Bill know you were coming?”  
  
Katie shook her head. “That was three questions, actually. All I can say is that I wanted to clear the air with Bill once and for all.”  
  
Jonas nodded and jotted something in his notebook again, which pissed Katie off. “Look, someone killed my sister and my ex-husband, and you need to find them, instead of trying to rile me up. Some crazed person chased me in a werewolf mask, and I had to jump out a window to get away.”  
  
Jonas and Alex looked at each other as the EMTs – a man and a woman team – started loading her into the back of the ambulance. “Did you say they were wearing a werewolf mask?” Alex asked.  
  
“Yes,” Katie said. “That’s what surprises you? Not that someone hacked my family to pieces and would have done the same to me if the housekeeper Carlotta hadn’t shown up?”  
  
“It's just odd, that’s all,” Jonas said. Again there was a hint of suspicion in his voice. He stuck a business card in her shaking hands right before the door closed, hollering after to call her to call them if she thought of any of relevance to the case.  
  
Katie lay back on the stretcher and just cried and cried.  
  
XoXoXo  
  
Jonas tapped his chin with the eraser on his pencil as he pocketed his steno pad for the moment. Alex watched him curiously. They had only been working together for a little over a month now, but Alex knew enough about Detective Brandon to know when he was thinking something deep.  
  
“What’s on your mind, Jonas?” Alex asked. They watched the ambulance pull away, heading down the steep hill leading away from the mansion.  
  
“I was just thinking it’s awfully convenient that Spencer’s very embittered ex happened to be on the premise when the killer felt like returning.”  
  
“Coincidence.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Alright, maybe the killer followed her here. Or was hiding, lying in wait, for her to arrive.”  
  
“How could they have known she was coming over if Bill seemingly didn’t?”  
  
“She could have discussed her plans with someone, and the killer overheard.”  
  
“Come on, Sanchez, does that sound plausible to you?” Jonas kept tapping the eraser against his chin. The ambulance carrying Katie was gone, and he began to pace in slow circles, deep in thought as if he were considering the greatest puzzles of the universe.  
  
“Actually, it does sound plausible to me, but you don’t seem to think so. You can’t possibly be thinking that Katie has something to do with this.”  
  
“'Katie'?” Brandon asked, arching a light brown eyebrow. “She’s ‘Katie’ to you? Exactly how well do you know her?”  
  
“Not as well as you seem to think,” Alex said, feeling put-off.  
  
“I hope you're not enough that you lose objectivity.”  
  
Alex rolled his eyes. “I'm a damn good cop. Don’t worry me. Work always comes first.”  
  
“Okay then, distance yourself enough from the situation enough to see what I do… Who would be the most likely to kill them?”  
  
“People you’d least suspect.”  
  
“Maybe, but what about the person who has a huge, obvious motive, but conveniently ‘falls’ from a window trying to escape?”  
  
“You’ve got to be kidding me! Even the EMTs confirmed that she broke her leg. She was all cut up and bruised too from dragging her wounded body across the patio.”  
  
“Yes, and that makes it the perfect cover.”  
  
“Jonas, you’re mad. In the head.”  
  
“Sure, but it also could be the truth. Stranger things have happened. You can’t be sure that ‘Katie’ is not involved somehow.”  
  
“And you can’t be sure that she is.”  
  
“Okay. Let me play devil’s advocate here. Let’s say she didn’t do this herself but still broke her leg to cover her crimes. She could have hired someone to do her dirty work and hurled herself out the window to throw us off the track, to make her look like a victim rather than a cold-blooded maniac. She has a lot of money now, thanks to Mr. Spencer. In fact, I’d be interested to know if she’s still his beneficiary.”  
  
“You’re mad. In the head. I’ll say it again, Jonas.” Alex shook his head, crossing his arms. “At least let’s see what comes back from the lab before we jump to any conclusions.”  
  
“I am just considering all the options.”  
  
“Are you? Cause it sounds to me like you already have Katie – excuse me, Ms. Logan – tried and found guilty. A good cop never jumps to hasty conclusions.”  
  
“I _am_ a good cop. And I am going to break this case wide open.”  
  
“Yeah,” Alex said, shaking his head again. His partner was a total pompous ass.  
  
XoXoXo  
  
Liam Spencer was lying in bed, feeling sorry for himself. The TV was on, but he had it muted. He had unscrambled the “scrambled channel,” as Hope called it, the moment she walked out. Seeing naked, sweaty bodies usually made him feel better, but not today. “Hope had better come to her senses,” he grumbled. “I am not going to wait around for her forever."  
  
On-screen, a man was penetrating a lusty, huge breasted blonde’s backdoor, and Liam wasn’t even aroused by that. He reached down and unbuttoned the tent of his boxers. He slid his hand into the fabric and began to fondle himself. It was a force of habit, really, and it usually made him feel better. However, not today. No matter how much he pumped his cock, he couldn’t harden, let alone cum. The frustration he was feeling went unreleased.  
  
“This day fucking sucks!” he shouted and let go of his flaccid dick. Just then, he heard the doorbell ring. He prayed it was Hope. That she had come to her senses and knew that he was the best thing for her, the only guy she could be truly happy with. She needed to recognize that.  
  
He refastened the button on his boxers as the doorbell rang again, a loud, long peel as if someone was leaning heavily on the buzzer. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” he shouted in annoyance as he searched for his jeans and yanked them on.  
  
He went to the door to find two men flashing badges at him. “Hey, officers, can I help you?” he asked. This might have been cool – like a scene out of a movie – if only he didn’t get a really bad feeling from it all.  
  
“This is Detective Brandon. I am sure you remember me. I am afraid we have some bad news, Mr. Spencer.”  
  
Liam shifted from foot to foot. “Oh, I’m not Mr. Spencer. Mr. Spencer is my father, Bill. He has run Spencer Publications for years and -" He paused when he saw the expressions on the policeman’s’ faces. “Sorry. I’m rambling. What’s this bad news? Please tell me it’s not about Hope.”  
  
“Hope?” Detective Sanchez asked. “Your-“  
  
“Wife. Yeah."  
  
“Brooke Logan’s daughter?” Alex asked, rubbing his cheek.  
  
“Yes, yes!” Liam practically shouted. “What’s going on here? Is Hope-“  
  
“This isn’t about Hope though. We need to speak with her too if she’s around,” Alex said.  
  
“She’s not. She’s out,” Liam said. “So what is going on? I mean, just tell me. I can handle it- whatever it is.”  
  
Alex looked at his partner. He was now letting the other one, Detective Branson – or was it Brandon – take the lead.  
  
“We regret to inform you, Liam, that your father Bill was murdered in his home sometime in the wee hours of the morning. He was found with Brooke Logan, and she was –“  
  
“Murdered too?” Liam said. “Am I right?” His voice sounded high to his ears.  
  
The cops nodded. “Yes, they were both murdered. Apparently, a knife was the killer’s weapon of choice,” Brandon said.  
  
“We’re sorry, Liam,” Alex said. “We just need to ask you a few questions, and then we will let you go so you can attend to family matters. We are making the rounds telling everyone about what happened, but it might be better if your loved ones hear it from you first. We expect it to be breaking news though in a few minutes if it’s not already all over the airwaves.”  
  
Liam felt a tear roll down his face, and he sagged against the door frame. He attempted to be stoic as he asked, “What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything. Just find out who did this. Please.”  
  
“We will… Now when was the last time you talked to your father?” Alex asked.  
  
“Last night. Around seven-thirty. I was at work, and he came to visit me. He only stayed for about thirty minutes and then left. I think he went to meet up with Brooke. No one was supposed to know they got back together.”  
  
The detectives nodded, and Brandon took over again. “Liam, can you tell us if your father was worried or anxious in the last few days? Did he confide in you that anything was bothering him? Did he seem scared to you at all?”  
  
“Bill Spencer scared? Never,” Liam said. “I bet he went down swinging.” He sighed as another tear escaped his eye. “But no, he didn’t confide in me about anything suspicious.”  
  
Brandon nodded. “Alright, just one more question, and we’ll let you go do what you need to do.”  
  
“Okay, shoot,” Liam said and then cringed. “I mean… well, at least I didn’t say stab. Anyway… what’s the question?”  
  
“Did your father have any enemies, anyone who might have wanted to see him suffer painfully?”  
  
“My father made a lot of enemies in business. He was a take-no-prisoners type of guy. But things had calmed down, really.” Liam’s eyes widened. “Katie, my father’s ex-wife on the other hand … I hate to even suggest it but –“  
  
“But?” Brandon pressed.  
  
“She had a pretty big ax to grind with my dad. He left her for her sister several times… I don’t think she would kill him over that, but I’m being honest here. She was pissed the last time she saw them together."  
  
“Katie’s in the hospital right now, Liam,” Sanchez said. “She was the one who discovered your father and Brooke dead.”  
  
“What was she doing at my dad’s place?”  
  
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Brandon said. He looked at Alex for a moment before turning back to face Liam. “Ms. Logan claims that the killer came after her while she was the house, but she managed to escape by more or less jumping out a window.”  
  
“Really? That sounds kind of-“  
  
“Far-fetched?” Brandon asked. He looked at Alex. “I have to agree.”  
  
Alex shook his head. “Liam, we’re sorry for your loss, but if anything – anything at all – occurs to you that might help solve this gruesome crime, please don’t hesitate to call.” He passed Liam his business card.  
  
Liam nodded and sighed as he watched them go and then closed the door.  
  
XoXoXo  
  
Shauna Fulton had been sequestered in the bridal storeroom all day at Vera Wang's. She would never tell anyone, but she thought Vera’s dresses were classier even than Forrester Originals and had gone just to try a few on to see how they looked on her. Now that she was not Mrs. Ridge Forrester, she only had her dreams left. The salesgirl – a woman who introduced herself as Tiffani “with an I” – had convinced her to try on more and more dresses until Shauna had suddenly looked at her watch and realized it was after eight p.m. She had excused herself, saying she would probably be back soon, and left noting that Tiffani "with an I" looked upset about all the inventory she would have to put away.  
  
Shauna walked out of the showroom, heading down the street to where she had parked her crappy Ford in a pay-lot half a block down. She started walking there, noting how dark it was tonight. There was only a sliver of the moon showing behind a thick gray cloud. The street lights seemed dimmer than they typically were in this expensive shopping district. Suddenly, she thought she heard footsteps coming up behind her. She immediately picked up her pace until she was practically sprinting. She was fumbling in her purse for her phone when she heard the footsteps pick up in intensity. No one appeared to be around tonight to help her—just her luck. Things were already bad in her life, and now she was going to be mugged or worse.  
  
The thought left her both pissed off and scared. She kept running towards her car as she grabbed her keys from her purse. In a panic, she dropped her keys and scrambled to the ground to grab them. She happened to look back, but the street was empty. Okay, obviously she had been mistaken. No one was chasing her. It was just her mind playing tricks on her. She had watched a horror movie with Flo this past weekend. That had to be what was perturbing her.  
  
She picked up her keys, looked around once more, and this time at a slower pace; she headed to her car. She popped the locks, disabling the alarm. She reached the Ford and started to climb in when she saw a flash of something silver. She spun around in a panic and found herself staring at a person in a werewolf mask. In the person’s hand was a huge butcher knife!  
  
The black-clothed figure inched towards Shauna as a scream welled up in her throat.


End file.
